When the Levee Breaks
by Warp Core Values
Summary: Set in "Free to Be You and Me" season 5, after Sam decides to give up hunting, and finds out he is Lucifer's vessel. Instead of calling Dean he decides to take matters into his own hands. If there's no Sam, then Lucifer can't possess him, right? Sam tries to kill himself to avoid being possessed by Lucifer, but how are Dean and Cas going to feel about that?
1. Chapter 1

Dean had just started to feel better about separating from Sam when it happened. It had taken days for him get over his anger towards him and accept that he needed a time-out. And you know what? He was good. For the first time in a long time he was actually beginning to enjoy himself.

That was, until Cas showed up.

"Dean," He said, making Dean flinch and curse under his breath. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel of the Impala.

"You gotta stop doing that, Cas."

Cas didn't seem to hear him. He looked terrible, well, terrible for an angel. His clothes and hair were unkempt, and his usually cool composure seemed to be cracking.

"Cas," Dean prodded.

"You have to help, Dean. I'm sorry, but I can't take it anymore."

By now it was hard for him to keep his attention on the road. He had never seen the angle so eratic.

"It's Sam."

And with that one sentence, Dean's blood ran cold, he pulled over to the side of the road knowing that if something happened to his brother he would probably crash the car.

"Cas, what's going on, dammit!"

Before he could react, Cas outstretched his hand towards Dean and placed two fingers on his forehead. They're surroundings changed and the next thing he knew he was standing in a clearing in the middle of the woods, Cas slightly swaying next to him. In front of them, was Sam. He was on his knees, sweating visibly and breathing heavily. A gun poised at his temple with a finger on the trigger.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, making his way towards him. He snatched at the gun only to have his hand go right through it.

"It's useless, Dean. I wasn't able to transport us here in full, due to the marks on you and your brother's ribs. We can see what's happening, but we cannot interfere."

Dean stood back, with anxiety, as Sam's finger twitched.

"So I can't do anything?" Dean asked, still backing away from Sam, afraid that if he approached any closer the gun would go off. Cas didn't respond, but instead placed a hand on Dean's shoulder and pulled him backwards. Finally, Sam took a deep breath, appearing to be at peace.

The gun went off with a bang.

"No!" Dean shouted. He knew it was useless, but he tore off for his brother anyway.

Blood immediately began to seep through the hole in Sam's head as his body slumped to the ground. Dean's hands went to his brother, hoping maybe somehow he could fix all this. But Cas grabbed hold of him once more and took him away.

"No! Let me go!"

Dean could feel the angel's grip tightening around him and knew there was no way he would get free. His eyes began to water and he blinked rapidly trying to will the tears away. They stood there, Cas holding Dean, neither of them making any Sam began to glow.

"What-what's going on?" A ball of light, maybe the size of a softball, rose above Sam. Dean had to shield his eyes, only peeking through the cracks in his fingers to see what was happening. Cas made no effort to protect his eyes from the blinding light. It traveled a few feet above Sam's body before a ghastly shadow ascended from the ground and pulled it down.

Dean could just make out a voice, like a whisper in the wind, it gave him goosebumps, or rather, it would have, if his body was really there. He couldn't make out what it was saying, but he caught one word- "Sammy".

Then, just like that, the darkness surrounding the light pushed it down until it reached Sam's stomach and was absorbed into his body. The billowy darkness sank into the Earth, and only Sam remained.

Dean approached his little brother once more and noticed that there wasn't any trace of blood, the bullet hole in Sam's head was gone. Before Dean could get any closer, Sam curled forward and tipped over on his side, heaving and gasping. And then, still shaky, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a sharp dagger, with both hands, he raised it upwards, pointed it straight at his heart and-

Dean was back in the Impala.

"Cas," He said tentatively, "what-"

"Sam's soul."

"Wait, wha-"

"What you saw back there, that sphere of light, that was Sam's soul. They don't normally shine like that Dean, human souls. Although they are rare, they are not hard to pick out. Nelson Mandela, Mother Teresa, for example. Their souls shine brighter than the average human, but Sam, I have never seen one so intense, so...beautiful. All this time it has been hiding under the taint of demon blood. You have to understand, as an angel, there is a drive in me to protect God's creation of man. Sometimes it is easy to ignore, especially when I bare witness to your World Wars and genocides. But when I come across the good, whether it is a simple act of kindness or the union of thousands when disaster strikes, I can't push it down. It's the good I see in Sam, and it's...hard for me to see him, his soul, suffer. There is something I must tell you Dean and that is that Sam is Lucifer's vessel, as you are Micheal's. Sam knows this, and as you have seen, he has been trying to "help" by eliminating himself."

Dean sat back for a moment, trying to control his emotions. He was still in a bit of a shock from their recent escapade, and the new information didn't help things, but he did have a basic understanding of the situation.

"And it didn't work," was all Dean said.

Cas appeared to be slightly relieved that Dean was processing the information without emotional interference.

"No, it didn't. Lucifer is using his power to keep Sam trapped on Earth and in his body."

"So that ball of light, er, Sam's soul, where was it going?"

There were only two options, and Dean feared the answer.

"Heaven, of course. Although, sadly, Sam believes that when he truly dies, he will be sentenced to damnation."

Despite Dean's earlier concern for Sam, all Dean wanted to do now was find him and throttle him for being such an idiot. How could he do that to Dean? What if he had died and Dean ended up never knowing what happened to him? He was going to have a talk with that little shit very soon.

"So what do you want me to do Cas?"

"Stop it. Ever since Lucifer was set free angels felt they needed to keep an eye on Sam. I volunteered, but I can't watch him do this to himself anymore."

It felt like Dean was seeing Cas in a new light, like he was discovering a whole new side to him. He had seen Cas curious, empathetic, even remorseful. But this was a new one, this was Cas pleading.

An all powerful angel of the Lord practically on his knees in front of a human. Dean thought for a minute.

"Where is he?"

/

Hours later, when Dean had driven down to the city Cas specified, he arrived at the dive motel Sam was surely staying in. And after asking the receptionist for a certain pseudonym, he was directed towards the back of the motel. The room closest the woods.

Tentatively, he knocked on the door.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sam?" Dean questioned, "Are you in there?"

He waited a couple more seconds before knocking again, harder.

"Come on, Sam. Open up."

Still no answer.

Without any other options, and his lock-picking kit in the Impala, he kicked the door open.

Inside, on the bed farthest from the door, was Sam. His arm dangling down the side and half his leg falling off, he wasn't breathing.

"Sam? Sammy!?"Dean exclaimed. He was at Sam's side in seconds, pushing him back on the bed and checking him for physical damage. It wasn't until he noticed the needle on the table that he stopped. He froze where he was, staring at Sam's lifeless body. God, he was so pale, his lips blue. Slowly, he sat down on the opposite bed, madly wiping his sleeve against his eyes.

Sam would come back though, right? He had seen it.

And after a few painful minutes, while Dean's head was in his hands, Sam came around. He doubled over, as he had in the forest, coughing and sputtering till he all but fell off the bed. Dean was there in an instant, helping his brother sit up and lean against it, he placed his hands on the sides of Sam's face and forced him to look up. Sam's eyes, which had previously been shut, were slowly opening and focusing on Dean.

"Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy, it's me."

Before Dean could say anything else, Sam attempted to swat away his hands and move out of his grasp, shaking his head.

"Sam, what is it?"

"Go. Just go. I'm tired of seeing you all the time."

Sam's words were a little sluggish but he managed to catch what he said.

"Sammy," Dean started, unsure of where to begin, "We haven't seen each other in weeks."

It was at this point that Sam stood up and really, _really_, scrutinized his brother.

"Dean? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Cas told me where you were."

Sam sat back on the bed, rubbing his eyes, and ran a hand through his hair. Dean remained standing, the anger towards Sam's actions was replacing his earlier concern.

"How would Cas know? Didn't he brand us with some sort of angel voodoo?"

"Yeah, well, Heaven wasn't really cool with that whole 'starting the apocalypse' thing you did, and wanted you on their radar. Cas volunteered to "monitor" your actions. He told me everything, Sam. He asked me to help because he couldn't stand seeing you do this to yourself! Do you know how upset he was? He was practically _begging _for me to get you to stop. Dammit, Sam! What the hell were you thinking?"

With each sentence Dean could feel his anger rising, Sam, however, seemed defeated.

"I'm trying to do the right thing here, Dean."

"So, what? You just get up, get dressed, and go kill yourself everyday? Is that it? Clearly, that's not working, Sam. So why don't you just cut the bullshit."

Sam sighed and leaned back, only upsetting Dean even more. How could he be so passive about this?

"I'm Lucifer's vessel, Dean!" Sam exclaimed, at least showing some sign of human emotion, "People, innocent people, are going to die if I don't find a way to gank myself. Sometime, maybe sometime soon, Lucifer's going to find a way to break me, and then we'll all be screwed for sure. But if I figure out how to eliminate myself, then there won't be any problem. Lucifer's current vessel is dying away, and sooner or later, it's going to be gone. I've already tried praying to an angel, any angel, to be smote into oblivion, if they think I'm such a troublemaker, why won't they do it? You said that Cas didn't want to see me do this to myself anymore, why? He and I aren't exactly the best of friends, why the hell would he care?"

Sam had stood up during his little speech, an was now out of breath, waiting for Dean's response.

"You selfish bastard."

Sam stepped back, surprised. Dean could hardly stand to look at him.

"And after all this thought, you didn't think about how it would affect me? You thought you could just slip away and not even leave a goddamn note? How could you do that? Especially after what I did to get you back?"

"That was your choice, Dean, not mine. And what does it matter? You can't even trust me anymore. Once I'm gone you don't have to worry about me, you can go see Lisa, be apart of their family and not have to worry about the damn apocalypse hanging over your head. I'm a monster, you said it yourself. I can't be saved. Let me go."

"Hold on, hold on! When the hell did I say that? Because I sure as hell don't remember it."

"You left me a voicemail," Sam said flatly, quickly grabbing his phone off the nightstand and tossing it at Dean, who caught it with ease. He pushed a few buttons and held it up to his ear. Sam watched as Dean's expression turned from surprise, to disbelief, to shock. When it was over Sam saw him delete the voicemail and toss the phone on the bed.

"I never sent you that message, Sam. "

Now it was Sam's turn to be surprised.

"What are you talking about?"

"I left you message but I never said-" Dean stopped and a look of annoyance took over his features, "Ruby."

Sam understood, he bit his lip and sat back down on the bed.

"I still have to do this, Dean."

"Is that it? You're just going to give up? We're family, Sam! Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

**THAT'S ALL FOR TODAY, FOLKS!**


	3. Chapter 3

"We're family, Sam!" Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Sam clenched his jaw.

"Of course it does, that's why I'm doing this. Think about it, thousands of families, millions, maybe. Would you rather have them die than me?"

Dean opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"That's what I thought."

Sam made his way towards the door and Dean unfroze, grabbed his arm and stopped him before he could get there.

"We'll find another way, just...stop this," Dean said, becoming more and more resigned.

Sam gave a harsh laugh.

"Another way, huh? I tried to find another way to get you out of your deal, and I don't think we need reminding of how that worked out. Sometimes you just have to accept your fate, and that's what I'm doing."

He slipped free from Dean's grasp.

"And when have we ever done that? How many times did you tell me you weren't going to be the Azazel's little bitch? That you weren't going to let him, or any other demons, control you?"

Dean followed Sam as he strode down he sidewalk against the motel.

"I was niave, Dean. But I know better now."

Dean quickened his pace, ready to tackle the bastard.

"Sam, stop."

Sam turned around, raising both arms as if he were to surrender.

"What are you going to do? Pull a gun on me? Please, do so."

They both moved down the street, Sam walking backwards to maintain the conversation. The perimeter of the trees was nearing.

"Why are you doing this?" Dean begged.

Dean stopped, and his brother did the same.

"That," Sam pointed both hands at Dean, "That right there is why. That expression on your face. I stress you out, I worry you. I have for a long time, and you shouldn't have to deal with this crap. Tell me you didn't enjoy being away from me, that not worrying about what trouble little Sammy's gotten into wasn't that best thing that's happened to you in years. You can't. And you can't say that this isn't the best course of action for you, for me, and everyone else."

Dean didn't move, it was like he was seeing Sam in a new light. His facade was gone, and the careless mask Dean had been talking to was replaced with an expression of a broken man. One who's sorrows were great, and had since expanded. The only thing Dean had done to help was push him away.

"I just want it to be over."

"What to be over?"

There was a pause

"Me."

"And you thought that I wouldn't care?" Dean asked in a soft yet menacing voice, almost as if he was struggling not to erupt.

"You would have gotten over it."

That was going to far.

"Oh yeah, sure, that's why I brought you back from the dead. Remember that, Sam? You listen to me, if somehow you find a way to off yourself, I'm following."

"Why would you do that?"

Dean was about to go off when he studied Sam, really studied him. There was genuine bewilderment written all over his face. Sam had no idea how Dean felt about this, and it angered him. His jaw clenched, he saw red.

"How can you say that? How could you possibly be so absorbed in your own self pity that you thought I wouldn't care if you left?"

"You won't."

Dean started forward, raising a hand, ready to knock some sense into him.

"Sam-"

"No...not if you can get Cas to erase all your memories of me. "

Sam wasn't joking, and the fury Dean had been feeling blended with disbelief and amazement.

"You would rather disappear off the face of the earth without a trace, without a memory to keep you alive, than fix your mess. Do you know who runs from their problems, Sam? Cowards."

Sam didn't exhibit any sort of reaction that would lead to offense, but rather distress and exasperation.

"I don't understand how you're not getting this. I am the mess. Maybe I am a coward, and I don't want to watch the world suffer because of me. But if I should be successful, then no one will remember anyway."

"Oh, so it's not just me you want to be forgotten by, that's great, Sam, but I'm not going to ask an angel to erase you from my mind, you don't deserve to be forgotten."

Sam didn't let up.

"Then I'll ask him. He hates me, just like all the other angels do, but he likes you, and won't want to see you suffer. I'm sure he'll be happy to oblige."

"Then I'll threaten to kill myself."

Sam almost flinched, and Dean could see he hit a chink in his armour. But that didn't stop him.

"And he'll bring you back. You can say yes to Micheal, and defeat Lucifer in his weakened vessel, then that's it, and you can live a normal life."

"And where will you be?"

"Nonexistent."

"Why can't you just stay here and fight it? Huh? Why won't you?" Dean begged.

"Because this way it will benefit you, you can start a new life, be with Lisa and Ben."

"Yeah, and who says I want to?"

"...What?"

"You heard me."

Sam did a double-take.

"You should hate me. You should want to stay as far away from me as possible. Don't you?"

Dean knew it wasn't supposed to be this hard to convince Sam he was worth something, he shouldn't need to convince him in the first place.

"And what the hell gave you that impression, huh? Was it the fact that I came all the way out here because I knew you were killing yourself everyday?"

Maybe Sam was about to rebuttal with another reason why he wasn't important enough for the time and effort, but he caught something in that sentence, and Dean knew what he was going to ask next.

"How did you know?"

"Cas told me. You know. the one who 'hates you'? He was upset, distraught, even."

"Why?"

"Because of this! What you're doing! He couldn't stand to watch you do this to yourself."

I can't stand to watch you do this to yourself, Dean thought.

"I have demon blood in me, Dean. Cas and the other angels should be grateful for what I'm doing."

"Oh yeah? Then why don't you ask him yourself."


	4. Chapter 4

Suddenly a breeze of motion caught Sam's attention, Cas now stood a little ways behind Dean.

"Cas..." Sam was speechless.

He looked terrible. Bags under his eyes (impossible really because he was an angel), hair mussed and unkempt, red rimming his eyes. Sam had done this to him.

"Am I not...I thought I was-"

"I know what you thought, what I led you to believe, but I was wrong, Sam."

Sam stood on the cement, studying the angel. It did seem he was genuine.

"No, I really don't think you were."

Cas sighed and shifted his weight, as if anticipating whether or not to approach. His frustration was clearly growing.

"I don't want to lock you down."

Sam didn't falter.

"I hope you're able to."

From behind his back Sam quickly pulled out a medium-sized dagger, one he'd apparently been hiding in the back of his jeans. Before either Dean or Cas could react, he plunged it into his neck. Dean froze and Cas stopped next to him.

The orb of light rose again, and only Cas could see. He turned away, muttering curses. He had never mentioned to Dean, the marks, almost scars, of injury that damaged Sam's soul every time he continued to take his own life.

Taking one's own life was already a sin as it was. Murder, or suicide, as long as killing occured, was an act subject to provoke damnation.

An act, a sin, that left a taint on the human soul.

Cas had lost count how many times Sam had sinned.

And because Sam was so pure, with such a soul that generated amazement even from he, it was so much worse.

Without good cause, with purpose only to harm, and to Sam himself, Sam's barbarous suicides should be so agonizing that the effect causes him physical pain.

But he can be healed, if he does repent. And Cas was prepared to do anything to make him do so.

During the moments before Sam's resurrection took place, Dean unfroze from his position, looking terrible sad and hopeless, and sat down on the pavement, leaning his back against the wall fo the motel, and waited.

"How do I fix this?" Dean directed the question to Cas, but his gaze never moved from the pool still growing by Sam's head.

"You can't."

Not good enough.

"No, you can help me do _something_, take me back in time. Let me talk to him again,, let me convince him not to leave, not to stay away from me."

Dean's eyes didn't move.

"That would not help, Dean. In fact, I have reason to believe that course of action would only have have worsened the outcome tenfold."

"What are you talking about? What reason?"

Cas considered Dean, who had finally shifted his stare to him.

"What was the cause that led Sam to separate from you in the beginning?"

Dean sat back and turned away, Sam's blood had begun to recede.

"Me. The way I treated him, what I said to him...This is all my fault."

Dean ran a hand through Sam's hair.

"And you would have continued to act toward him the same way. It would have driven him to the edge much sooner, and with more drastic measures. And-"

"I would have had to watch. See him spiral down that path. And you know what? I don't think I would have stopped him."

His last sentence came out in a broken whisper, he then proceeded to drop his head into his hands. Cas awkwardly placed a hand on his shoulder, then took it away.

"It doesn't matter what part you may or may not have played, Dean. This was inevitable. Nothing can say or do would have changed his mind. He thought, and continues to believes, that he deserves this. That you think he deserves this."

Deans head shot up.

"That I _what_?"

"Your...rejection, of sorts, is what brought him to this conclusion. Albeit, not without other factors. No, it was just the final nail on his coffin. Well, at least if he stayed, um, unresponsive."

Dean considered the new information, watching tentatively as Sam's healing was almost complete.

"How do you know all this?"

"I've had a lot of time to...observe Sam. Look inside his head. He has an understandable way of thinking, and coming to conclusions. It wasn't hard to assume what drove him to his own solution."

"Yeah, well, not a very effective solution, was it."

It wasn't a question.

Before Castiel could respond, a heaving gasp sounded from their right. Sam turned over, then on his hands and knees, began to lift himself off the ground. Dean was quck to help him up.

Sam looked saddened. As if he was disappointed Dean was still there.

"What do you expect me to do, Dean?"

Dean stood with his hands still holding Sam's arms, he peered at his brother, who clearly assumed he was out of options.

Dean began to lead him back into the motel.

"I expect you to use your head, Sam. You keep telling me this is the only way, but is it really? Is this your most logical answer? You're smart, remember college boy? Tell me, what would the most beneficial outcome be?"

They stopped moving and Sam looked Dean directly in the eyes.

"The least loss of life. Me, Dean. I can nip this in the bud. It's me, or thousands, maybe millions, of innocent people. I won't let you trade them so I can live."

Dean shoved Sam into the room and shut the door. Cas had disappeared, now that it seemed Dean was getting ahold of things, as he'd asked.

"No, we're going to figure this out, just like we always do. And I'm going to make sure you live to see the end to see the end of this fight. You're not bailing out on me, not no, not ever."

Sam turned his head, Dean's words running through his mind. He came to a decision.

"Where do you want to start?"


End file.
